Page 56 of Of Pranks and Passion

He turned to me with a frown. “What are you talking about?”

“You said she’ll go after you the minute we end things. If we make it look like we really got married, she’ll never have the chance. It’s not like you visit, right? We have the big wedding, act like a happy couple, and convince her we’re forever. Then, once she finally fucks off, we can go back to just being us. No big deal.”

When I chanced a glance at Gary, he looked at me like I was crazy. “You want to have a wedding and pretend to marry me just to get rid of my sister? Are you insane?”

Well, duh. He already knew that.

Pulling over on the side of the road, I slammed on the brakes and put the car in park. Gary yelped with the abrupt turnoff, gripping his seatbelt tightly. Turning fully to face him, I leveled him with a look.

“I’m nowhere near done with you yet, Gary. You’re mine for the foreseeable future. Planning a fake wedding doesn’t change that. It just proves my point. I don’t give a shit about weddings or romance or whatever, but I’ll throw a fake party and drive your sister insanely jealous by spoiling you. Then, when she’s cowed enough to leave you alone, we’ll go back to what we are.”

“Which is?”

I shrugged. “Friends with benefits? Fuck buddies? You’re my friend, but I also really like to fuck you. Call it whatever you want.”

That startled a laugh out of him, and he finally lost some of the defeat in his expression. He shook his head, peeking up at me. “You’re insane, you know that?”

“I’ve been told it’s one of my best qualities. Say yes, Gary. Fake marry me.”

Rolling his eyes, he chuckled and bit his lip before nodding sharply. “Alright. But I want you to promise me something.”

“What’s that?”

“The minute we get home, you change back to normal Easton. I touched your hair in the restaurant. It’s crunchy. That’s gross.”

Barking out a laugh, I lunged across the center console and attacked his mouth with a single-minded purpose. I’d get him to realize it eventually. Only one word ever popped into my head when I thought about Gary.

Mine.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

GARY

Pretty sure wewere supposed to meet the guys at The Hideout after the party, but I barely managed to convince Easton not to drag me out of his car on the side of the road to fuck me. The interior of his fancy car was not built with sex in mind, and it wasn’t even dark yet. We went back to his apartment instead and barely made it into the elevator before he shoved his tongue in my mouth. His hands were everywhere, trailing fire in their wake, and I cursed the elevator for moving so slowly.

The elevator door opened, and someone gasped, forcing us apart. We weren’t on Easton’s floor. The door opened to the main lobby instead. Had we forgotten to press the button?

An older couple stood just outside, two tiny terriers yipping at their feet. The woman looked disgruntled, scowling at us both as she scooped up her little rats, while her husband looked unfazed, leading her into the elevator with a hand on her back and pressing a button for a floor a few below Easton’s. Easton looked beyond irritated that they joined us, and his hands started wandering even when I shook my head rapidly. He didn’t care who was watching. And I was too gone on him to protest.

My face was bright red by the time we made it to their floor. Easton had spent the whole elevator ride groping my ass, trailing fingers over my crease, teasing me with what he planned to do to me when we got home. It took every ounce of self control to hold back the noises begging to spill from my throat.

The door slid open, and the couple hurried out, the old woman turning around just after she stepped off. “You should be ashamed of yourselves,” she seethed.

“You should mind your fucking business,” Easton shot back, leaning around me to press the button the close the doors in her face. She did the full pearl grab in response to his mouth, and I would bet anything that she would make a complaint to whoever would listen to her, but Easton didn’t care. He pressed the button for his floor and spun around, locking on me with a predatory gaze.

I knew what was coming, but I didn’t think I'd ever be fully prepared for the force of Easton’s attention. He had me off my feet, shoved up against the wall of the elevator, and his tongue in my mouth in seconds, devouring me completely. This time, I didn’t hold back the groan in my throat, wrapping my legs around his hips and grinding shamelessly against him. I was so focused on the feel of his cock grinding against mine, I didn’t hear the ding of the elevator until Easton’s grip tightened on my ass, and he dragged me away from the wall, marching out of the elevator and to his apartment door without breaking the kiss. He had to be some kind of magician to be able to focus long enough to open the door because I couldn’t focus on anything but him.

I wriggled free of his hold when we got inside, shoving the suit jacket off his shoulders. I didn’t like it. Okay, that was a lie. I thought he looked hot as sin, but I didn’t like how much he seemed to hate it. He was just as eager to get the thing off, tugging at the tie while I quickly unbuttoned the shirt. Shirt and tie hit the floor, and the undershirt came next before Easton letout a sigh of relief. Meanwhile, I was distracted by running my fingers over his tattoos. It didn’t matter how many times I saw them. He was a work of art.

I wasn’t as awkward about sex anymore and didn’t even hesitate to dip my head and run my tongue over his nipple. He grunted in response, cupping the back of my head, his free hand wrestling with the button on his slacks. When I nipped at him, he hissed, but one quick glance told me he liked the rough treatment. I switched sides and repeated the motion, earning a groan from Easton that made me shiver with anticipation.

The hand that had been cupping my head shifted and gripped my hair, tugging me away from him. He swooped back down, plundering my mouth like it belonged to him. It totally did. I was fake engaged to the hottest, most perfect man on the planet. Every inch of me belonged to him.

I just couldn’t ever let him figure that out.

Easton was less polite about removing my clothes than I had been with his. While I was distracted by his tongue, he ripped open my shirt, sending buttons scattering all over the floor. I should have complained, I didn’t have that many nice clothes that were up to my family’s standards, but his rough treatment shot a thrill through me, and I could only moan in response.

The shirt got caught on my wrists, since I hadn’t thought to unbutton the cuffs beforehand, but instead of taking the time to fix the issue, Easton used it to his advantage, twisting up the material so my hands were trapped at the small of my back. I broke the kiss, dazed and needy, blinking up at him in confusion. He flashed me a wicked grin.

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